


Working Title: The Care and Feeding of Your Angel

by LRoge



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LRoge/pseuds/LRoge
Summary: So far - an episodic take on Castiel and Dean's "break up" on Supernatural, season 15 I haven't seen yet, and Castiel leaves to seek comfort from the angel Aziraphel. This upsets demon Crowley who meets up with Dean Winchester to try and convince him to fix things so his angel can go back to spending time with him. In my head canon Cas and Dean are in an unspoken relathionship and pressure from Aziraphale and Crowley to fix their relationship, and seeing what they could be together spurs them to fnally acknowlege their feelings for one another.Work in progress, explainined in note. I'm looking for feedback.
Relationships: Crowley/Aziraphale, Dean/Castiel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Working Title: The Care and Feeding of Your Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't watched Season 15 yet, so that's why this has been so hard to write, and actually some serious family issues have taken my time away from working on this fic. I'm sure I'll change it round when I finally catch up on season 15. Feel free to comment with advice, and spoilers. I don't mind.

“Might your name be Winchester?”

Dean looked up from his drink in the dive bar. In a darkened corner at the end of the bar, darker than usual, like a light bulb burned out in the corner, sat a strange man in all black, with flaming red hair, with a snake tattoo below his temple, and wearing sunglasses indoors.

Douchebag, Dean thought. 

Suddenly the bar seemed much shorter than it had a second ago, and it was like the strange man was sitting next to him, or one bar stool away. 

“Who wants to know?” Dean asked, warily.

“Name’s not important,” the man said sipping his ...scotch, Dean would guess. “Means something different to you, anyway.” Dean thought he heard him add in a whisper, “though I had it first.”

“What is so important, then?” Dean asked, getting rapidly annoyed by this stranger.

“What’s important,” the man repeated. “ is an angel named Aziraphale. You don’t know him.”

“Ok. What’s this Aziraphale to you?” Dean asked. “Or more importantly, what’s he to me?”

“I don’t imagine he’d mean anything to you,” the stranger said. “Not as much as the angel, Castiel?”

Dean sat up straighter now that he had his attention. His eyes roamed over the stranger once again. He was cocky as hell, but didn’t seem like an arrogant douchebag angel. I mean, he seemed sort of angel-like, but without all the awkward distraction of earth. 

Even Cas wasn’t quite sure of earth even though he’d been physically manifest in a vessel for 11 years. This weirdo was oddly   
singularly focused, though on what, Dean still wasn’t sure.

“What about Cas?”

“I need you to come and collect your angel. He’s taking up a lot of my angel’s time at the moment.” The stranger had been staring across the bar vacantly, but now looked pointedly at Dean and let his glasses slip down his nose a bit revealing his yellow serpent eyes.

“Your angel?” Dean repeated. “What are you?”

“Ahhh, it’s not important, is it?” the stranger answered. He said it, not like he was trying to be coy or secretive, but like it was going to be a pain in the ass to explain. 

“Let’s say it is.”

“Ok, I suppose you can call me a demon, but not like the lot you’re used to.”

“Why aren’t your eyes black?” Dean asked almost immediately.

“I’m not possessing anyone, actually” the stranger said. “Been on earth,” he burped, “long time.”

“Ok, Mr. Important.” Dean said unimpressed, “Just so you know, I killed Cain.”

“Oh Cain,” the stranger said, “I met his mother when she was pregnant with him. Never met him.” 

He spoke with vacant wistfulness that would have been hard to fake. It was detached enough, like he didn’t really care if Dean believed him. That was what was unnerving and made Dean start to believe him.

“What do you want?” Dean finally asked him.

“I want my angel back” he said sharply. “You may not know how to treat your angel, but my angel, is the only thing that's important to me. Look, your world could have ended. We didn’t let it happen. Stopped Heaven and Hell because at the end of the war, Angel goes back to heaven and I don’t get to see him anymore.  
“Now your angel, Castiel, is heartbroken and he’s bothering his old friend Aziraphale about it. Aziraphale even suggested they take a trip to the seaside to help Castiel get over you! My angel should be with me. He needs to pay attention to me.”

“Your angel?” 

“Let’s not go over this again,” 

“What do you know about Cas?” Dean said sharply back.

The stranger considered. He had a weird face, he puckered his lips oddly and made a vacant consonant sound when thinking. “Errrhm, he seems nice. I can see why you’d want him in your corner, honestly. Bit naive sometimes, but Angels, am I right?” he looked to Dean as if sharing a joke.

Dean made a point of not responding and fixing the stranger with a cold glare. 

“Look, I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want to be here talking to you. I’m very old, and there are very few things I actually care about. Aziraphale. That’s it. That’s the list. And.....a vintage car, but mostly the angel!” 

“Vintage car? What year? I have a 1967 Chevy Impala,” Dean said.

“1920. Bentley” he said with a flat expression, and for the first time, Dean appreciated the stranger for not saying something douchey like… Oh that’s cute, about his baby.

“1920, wow. What’s that thing cost to keep on the road?” Dean asked, forgetting who he was talking to for a moment. 

“I’ve got no idea,” the stranger said seriously. He returned Dean's cold glare from behind his sunglasses. 

“Oh, uh,” Dean stammered, actually embarrassed. “So your angel, what’s he like?”

“He’s nothing like me, actually,” the demon said, growing wistful again. “He’s smart. Damn smart. And you think he’s an innocent, but he’s clever, and not just clever but savvy, you know? He runs a business. Uses a computer. I know demons, don’t even know what a computer is!  
“He doesn’t know all the modern slang or whatever, but he’s like...contemporary, when he needs to be. But he’s grounded, you know, which is a strange thing for an angel to be. He’s not full of himself, he’s...he’s genuine ...” 

There was a brief pause while the demon looked down at his empty glass. “Damn, I love him,” he cursed. It was then that Dean realized this guy was sauced.

And shortly after that he realized he missed Castiel. He missed him with an aching heaviness in his chest that spurred him to drink more. Deep breaths and distract, he turned to the stranger, and said, “Look, if you’re so messed up over this guy spending time with Cas, why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

The stranger gave Dean with an embarrassing glare again, that even behind his glasses clearly conveyed the sentiment, you’re one to talk. He signaled to the bartender for another drink.

“Let’s talk about your angel, shall we?”

“Stop calling him my angel, would you?”

The stranger completely ignored this, “Poor thing is shattered. He’s a mess! How could you do it to him? I barely know the guy and I feel for him - he’s devastated!”

The stranger’s voice was getting high at the ends of sentences as he settled comfortably into his second drink, that Dean knew of. “I keep out of it, actually. Stay out of his way. I don’t want to come off as judging, but I'm like Really, Castiel? Don’t you think you could do better?”

“What? Hey!”

“Well,” the stranger sipped his drink again. “You don’t think he deserves better? I mean, the guy is in love with you. And you let him leave, after...quite a lot of history between the two of you, as I understand it. Quite a lot. And I’ve been around for ...well, all of history.  
"Frankly, I don’t know how you did it. Do you know what is for an immortal to love a human?” 

“Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

The stranger leaned in toward Dean, hissed the words, “Aww, see you’ve made it my business. Clean up your mess. Come get your angel Or if you’re not going to help him, put him out of his misery!”

*************

A very gay British gentlemen dressed all in shades of white stepped out of the car. He had curly white hair and was dressed, Dean couldn’t have guessed for what time period, but he clearly bore a gold pocket watch on a chain. He didn’t think even his grandfather, Henry would have dressed like this guy. He wore a bow tie. A kind of white plaid bow tie. His jacket was longer than he'd seen that time he time traveled into the 1920s and met Eliot Ness. 

He was eccentric enough- he had to be the angel, Aziraphale. But this guy? This was who that shades wearing demon was obsessed with? Well, he was right, thought Dean, they couldn’t be more different. 

Even though the demon acted kind of like a douchebag at times, Dean could see he at least thought of himself as a cool guy. And he drove this Bentley. But he was with this character who probably sat down every day to pour himself tea from an actual teapot? He looked like a muffin. Like an Alice in Wonderland character without the top hat. 

Wierdo, thought Dean.

“Anthony Crowley!” the British man shouted at the demon, as he began to jog towards them. Not too much of a jog, as the guy seemed a little soft around the middle. More of a reader than a hunter, Dean guessed. Actually, this guy seemed made for the Men of Letters library.

“Aziraphale!” the demon almost cried in response and took two loping steps toward the angel who approached him with his arms out in front of him as if for a hug. Instead they met and clasped each other’s hands - which was somehow gayer than hugging, Dean noticed. 

The two of them stood together, right beside him, holding both of each other’s hands and gazing into each other’s eyes as though Dean were invisible. The demon was still wearing sunglasses at night.

“Why did you leave? You didn’t tell me where you’d gone! I’ve been on tenterhooks! Castiel and I have been searching for you everywhere!”

“I didn’t think you’d notice I’d left, you’d been so busy with your friend Castiel!” 

“Oh, don’t be like that, my dear!”

“Why? You’re more worried about him than you are about me.”

“That’s absolutely not true! Crowley, YOU’ve had my attention for thousands of years!”

“But there have been whole centuries where we didn’t speak to each other!”

“And we’re making up for it now! There’s no need to be jealous! Just because Castiel needed my help.”

“Help? You can’t help him! He can’t even hear you! He’s just Dean this, and Dean that, all day. It’s ridiculous! He needs the man to sort it out. That’s why I found him.”

“Oh you found him! I beg your pardon, you must be Dean” Aziraphale noticed Dean for the first time and moved to shake his hand. The demon shifted behind the angel and glowered at Dean.

Aziraphale gave Dean an awkward two handed handshake where he shook his hand normally at first, then covered both of their hands with his other hand while he continued saying, “I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Castiel has told me ever so much about you.”

“Angel,” the demon hissed, but he sounded tired. Aziraphale immediately turned on his toes, almost spun around to face him saying,  
“Oh thank you so much for finding him. We simply must get these two together to talk.”

The demon, leaning against the car made a face.

“What if I don’t want to talk to Cas?” Dean interrupted suddenly. “And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

This puzzled Aziraphale who went through expressions of surprise, confusion, and disappointment. 

“Oh? Oh.” Aziraphale muttered, his face taking on the expression of a wounded puppy. He turned to the demon with wide sad eyes. “I just… I just wanted them to be as happy as we are.”

“He doesn’t want to be happy, Angel. Look at him,” the demon interjected eagerly, reaching to gently touch Aziraphale by the elbow. 

Suddenly they were standing on the veranda of a cabin surrounded by woods. It was a beautiful little cabin that reminded Dean of an upscale skiing retreat. There was an outdoor fireplace beside them, and Dean could see another fireplace inside the great room through the window.

“No, Angel. Where are we?” the Demon whined. “Why are we here? I want to go home!”

“Now dear, take it easy,” Aziraphale consoled him. “It’s only for a little while,” As he was speaking, the door to the cottage opened and Cas stepped out onto the veranda. Cas stood near Dean but wouldn’t make eye contact with him, and Dean couldn’t take his eyes off Cas, unable to say anything. Meanwhile the angel and demon continued to argue beside him.

“Why here?”

“It’s free of distraction. They need to spend time together to communicate their feelings.”

The demon growled. “RRRRGH! A cabin? It’s rustic.”

“It has hot and cold water, and electricity! It’s the human’s aesthetic and he’s our guest! We can sit together, beside the fire.” The demon made a slight grin, as Castiel began to speak. 

“Dean, I see you met Aziraphale, Principality of Heaven, Angel of the Eastern gate,” Cas said formally, “and his...husband, Anthony.”

Aziraphale shot the demon a pointed look, eyebrows raised. The demon ignored him, and grinned cheekily. Dean, not in the mood for drama, rolled his eyes. 

Castiel had noticed the look that crossed Aziraphale’s face and looked confused, “Is that not the correct term?

Azriphale again raised his eyebrows, and the demon announced, "ish…"

"We haven't taken vows," Azriphale asserted. 

"Vows? Why do we need vows? We're supernatural entities." He dismissed it with passion. "Fine, I Anthony J. Crowley, do solemnly swear to do everything in my power not to let the world end, because then I could never have lunch with you, my sweet angel, Azriphale, again!" 

Azriphale scoffed and turned away as the demon took his hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it sweetly. Aziraphale immediately blushed, beaming. Dean groaned and Castiel sighed. 

While groaning and turning away, though Dean Winchester noticed a few things he didn’t want to notice. He had no reason for noticing them. It was as if time slowed down very distinctly so that he could notice the way Aziraphale’s eyes glittered with happiness as Anthony kissed his hand, the way Anthony gave Aziraphale’s hand a slight squeeze just before he let it go. 

Despite the demon’s dark sunglasses, he noticed the way his gaze followed Aziraphale without an inhalation, and how love seemed to radiate from his whole being in the presence of his angel. The love he observed, made Dean’s chest ache for reasons he didn’t want to think about.

“Come on, angel,” the demon said suddenly, walking into the cabin. “Let’s make a drink.” Dean heard Aziraphale saying “oooh, Cocoa,” and then he and Cas were left alone on the veranda.

“Cas,” Dean said at last. 

“Dean,” Cas returned in an emotionless voice. 

“So,” Dean cleared his throat, trying to think of what else to add. He couldn’t put into words how good it was to see Cas. He didn’t want to say it yet, though. 

“They’re...something else,” Dean gestured toward the cabin where he didn’t want to imagine what could be going on between the angel and the demon inside.

“They seem very happy together,” Cas said flatly. “Very, devoted to one another.”

Dean grunted, unsure even how to respond. He didn’t want to compare himself to the demon or the angel. So he just said, “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No. Do you have something to say, Dean?” Cas replied.

“No. No, I don’t.” 

Cas walked off down the veranda and around the corner leaving Dean alone to sit outside by the outdoor fireplace enjoying the wooded view. 

Somehow everything still irritated him though, because it was like this place was designed for him to love it. 

**********

“Anthony, is very affectionate with you.” Cas stated.

“That’s just how he is,” Aziraphale gave a silent coy laugh. “I am very lucky.”

“Yes,” Cas agreed. “That’s not how Dean is, at all. He’s different. He’s complicated.”

“Although. There was a time, I was very embarrassed by the attention. I didn’t want to admit to myself my feelings for him. I felt, being an angel, my allegiance to something greater was...more important than my own feelings.”

“All of heaven knows that I fell for Dean Winchester.” Castiel said.

“Oh, I know. I’m not saying you’re like me. Maybe. I understand a little, where he’s coming from. Humans, they have limited experiences, remember. But I can see that you care for him very much.”

“I do,” Cas said flatly. “I don’t know that matters, though.” 

“It does matter for something. To you at least.” Aziraphale said, trying to be comforting. “If you can not change what Dean does or says, despite how he feels, what do you want for him?

Castiel was silent for a moment and then said, “I guess I want him to want to be happy. To at least know that he deserves to be happy."

"What if he doesn't know what happy looks like? "

********

“You’re jealous, admit it. No, you don’t have to admit it, but I know you’re jealous. You think you can’t have your angel, but you can.”

“Oh, you can shut your face,” Dean said snidely. He’d really had enough of this guy. “You don’t know me and Cas. And I don’t want all you and your angel have, this: Darling, and my dear, and kissing hands. If Cas kissed my hand, I’d slap him.”

“You would? What would he do then?” the demon asked half laughing with a distinct impression that he didn't care what his answer was, which annoyed Dean more. 

Dean was suddenly forced to realize though, that he couldn’t imagine himself slapping Castiel without then wanting to hold his face in his hands and make sure he wasn’t hurt. In addition, he also realized he couldn’t imagine slapping Cas without Cas grabbing him and slamming his back against a wall and demanding respect. In fact, the very thought of slapping Cas almost made him unable to breathe for a second. 

He was suddenly overwhelmed by memories, each one clear as though it was happening to him again. He saw Cas embracing him as leader of an army of angels, and Dean pretending he was not willing to be hugged, while hugging Cas closer to him with the arm furthest from Sammy. He remembered Hannah and the other angels asking Cas to punish Dean for killing the reaper Tessa and Cas refusing. 

He saw Cas the badass fighter, destroying demons and fellow angels. He saw himself on his knees in a crypt, believing Cas was about to kill him, but knowing some other power had possessed him and begging for Cas to just return to his senses and be Ok; and Cas then breaking the connection with that other power and healing him. He saw himself taken over by the rage of the mark of Cain, beating Castiel senseless and Cas not raising a hand in defense of himself. He heard Cas’s voice saying “I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt Dean.” 

He saw Cas saying "I could go with you," while believing Dean was about to go to his death and destroy The Darkness. He remembered the bunker and Cas finding out Dean was ok. They never spoke of it but Cas had run to him with open arms, and Dean had let himself fall into him and be embraced. 

Then he saw Cas, hurt, bleeding. Black ooze seeping out of his wounds where he lay on the floor of a barn looking at Dean and struggling to tell him, “You’ve changed me. Knowing you has been the best part of my life. I love you.” He felt his chest burning and a stinging feeling behind his eyes that those moments created. 

All of this passed through his mind in a matter of seconds, but so vividly that he suspected the demon of doing something to his mind. He looked angrily at the demon, who just shrugged nonchalantly. 

“They’re your feelings. I’m not making you have them," he said as though he knew exactly what Dean was thinking. “I’m just showing you how you feel. You love the angel, you know you do.” The demon uncrossed his legs and stood up. “It’s up to you if you’re going to do anything about it.” 

"Whatever you're doing in my head, stop it."

"I just said, human, I'm not doing anything. I can see how much you need him. It's written all over your face."

********

What is with that guy? I’ve seen demons. I’ve seen gay demons before. But what is his deal? How is he so head over heels for an angel?

“He’s not really a demon. Not like the class of demon we’ve seen before. Most of the demons we’ve met were human souls at one time, tortured in hell.   
Crowley retained a lot of his angel qualities. He didn’t fall from heaven, exactly. I mean he fell to earth, but he was already on Earth when Lucifer lost the war in heaven. So he never lost his angelic body, and ability to create miracles.  
He and Aziraphale met on earth shortly after the humans fell from grace, and they’ve been...close ever since. I think one of the things he retained from being an angel is the ability to love Azriphale so completely. But I could be wrong about that. Crowley, is very rare."

Crowley? Really?

“He was an important angel once. Aziraphale never knew him as an angel and he has forgotten his angel name. He chose the name Crowley about 2,000 years ago, and a human he met in the 20th Century was fond of it. The demon we know as Crowley took the name from the human.” Cas paused, awkwardly before continuing. “I know, Dean, that you miss him.”

“Crowley? That douchebag?”

“He helped us in many ways. It’s ok. To have complicated feelings for a ...a frenemy.”

“A frenemy?” Dean grinned. 

Cas’s expression softened somewhat at Dean’s slight smile, but he didn’t say anything. 

The words hung tensely in the air between them, and Dean struggled to work his jaw against the deep ache in his throat and pressure building up in his face in the cavity behind his eyes.


End file.
